History Repeats
by Draquia
Summary: Harry is an Auror, a hero, and an honorary Weasley when tragedy strikes and brings him to the doorstep of someone he didn't expect to see again. With The Organization on the rise, is the Wizarding World headed for war? Does Harry even matter this time?


All rights belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros.

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Cho's apartment was immaculate, though it gave Harry more the idea that she avoided clutter, rather than Aunt Petunia's total aversion to anything out of place. She moved about the kitchen deftly, preparing a tea for them both. Though she passed Harry an ordinary earl grey, he noticed the scent wafting from her cup was foreign and potent. It was funny how Harry had never really thought of Cho as Chinese before, she had always been Cho, the seeker and girl. But here and there her apartment showed evidence of her background. A framed quidditch poster was opposed directly by a Chinese scroll decorated with a vibrant, moving painting. Her assortment of cups in the top cupboard was sprinkled with Chinese tea cups, and her pantry smelled anything but English. Several spices adorned racks on the back of the door, and Harry could not have named half of them if he'd tried.

The tension at the table was almost tangible as the silence went on, neither knowing quite what to say to the other. Harry had grown used to becoming very direct - even rude if need be - to people he needed information from, but that was just the problem. Cho was not a suspect to be interrogated, nor a co worker to be pushed harder, nor a Weasley he could just have blurted things out to. She was someone he respected - someone he felt more than respect for - but not someone he could speak to easily. Approaching anything delicately was not Harry's strong point, and he floundered at where to begin. He drew in a breath to speak, but was distracted by the decided clink of Cho's teacup on the table. "You came to ask about Hagrid."

Harry was surprised. He hadn't expected her to know so directly what he'd come for. He looked up at her, but she was looking at her cup. "Well, yeah." Harry admitted. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. Cho sighed, and Harry found himself a little resentful at the reluctant look on her face, though he quickly chided himself for it. "I wasn't allowed on the case because I was...too close to him."

Cho saw the way he held back, the way he always had with her, only now his eyes seemed...darker as he did it. His face was serious, but not in pain. Beseeching, but without vulnerability. The waves of unsaid words crashed deafeningly between them. If she had been a little more bitter, Cho might have pressed the advantage she knew Harry had given her by coming here, even if he would not admit it.

"He was a child, Harry. Barely more than a boy. I'd be surprised if he was more than a year out of Hogwarts." She saw the way Harry's knuckles whitened in his clenched hands. She knew he was fighting not to scream at her, and in a way she admired his restraint. She had never known The Boy Who Lived very well, but she knew enough to know that Harry never liked to hear that the other side might not be all evil. He didn't want it justified to him, he wanted vindication, and Cho could not give it to him.

"If it hadn't been so close to the start of the school year, I mightn't even have been there. But Hagrid ran through the castle like a man possessed, calling for everyone to help him. He said Bane was dead, and The Organization was raiding the centaur herd. Five of us went, followed him into the Forbidden Forest. It was..." She struggled to find the right word, "mayhem. They set the forest alight with fiendfyre, Harry. Half the herd was down when we got there, and it only got worse. Do you know how many people have been recruited in The Organization in the last three months? I haven't seen the half of it, but I think this must have been the worst raid yet. The raiders started to retreat when they saw us coming, and Tarpeia Grubbly-Plank and I tried to put the fire out, but Hagrid charged straight into the midst of their retreating ranks. I don't think he cared what happened to him at that point, he just wanted revenge. He got between one boy and the fire, I... I don't think he was even going to bother with his wand. The boy panicked and drew his, but I couldn't get there fast enough. It was over so quickly, I don't think anyone, even the boy who cast the curse, even registered what he was doing until after it was done. Hagrid...he just lay still, like he'd fallen asleep..."

Unable to describe further, Cho gripped her cup a little harder than she needed to, steadying her hands. She hadn't wanted to think about it at all, let alone talk about it - Tarpeia had died in that fire too. But she knew exactly where Harry stood now, she had been there before, and she knew he needed to hear it. She let out a breath, feeling that she'd laid an old qualm inside herself to rest.

Harry was no longer looking at her. He was trying desperately not to think about the curse that killed his first real friend, and the fiendfyre which had gruesomely decimated half his body where he lay. He remembered instead the midnight which began his eleventh birthday. He remembered the shaggy giant of a man who had managed to find his way to Harry in a leaky shack on a dismal island in a storm. He remembered tasting the cake that had been made especially for him, the first he'd ever had. Hagrid was inextricably tied to the warm feelings Harry had known the first time he was ever made to feel special. Hagrid had cared for Harry unquestioningly, and for the first time in his whole life Harry had not felt like a pebble in someone's shoe. Something hot trickled traitorously from his eye, and Harry hastily turned away from Cho to look around the room again.

Ceilings were fascinating things really, he tried to convince himself in vain. He heard Cho's footsteps retreat into the kitchen with a sense of relief. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, and mentally hardened himself. He should be going. Cho had told him what he needed to hear. He hadn't been home for nearly three days now, and he'd gone as long without sleep, but the thought of returning home carried with it a foreboding heaviness. He wasn't sure he could face everyone yet. He loved The Burrow and all it's occupants, but solitude was an impossibility there, and he didn't think he could handle being without it yet. If he'd been assigned to Hagrid's case, he wouldn't have left work at all, as dealing with the problems at hand was much more practical than dealing with the ones that were past already.

Feeling upset? Go chase down a Death Eater. It was simple. Harry was technically on leave right now, but he couldn't think of what else to do. He was on his way to the door when Cho shuffled back in. Harry turned, and Cho beckoned him over. He may as well excuse himself properly. He owed Cho more than this, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words, no matter how close to his lips they were.

Cho didn't want to make the situation any worse for him, so she had got up to refill their cups, perhaps bring out some crackers. Cho remembered that swallowing something solid usually helped to push down a lump in your throat - she'd had a lot of practice. She flicked her wand in the direction of the windowsill radio. The Wizard Wireless came on, and she set the volume to a gentle background noise, so they would no longer hear every shuffle of limb and clothing as they moved. It made the atmosphere easier. She poured another cup of tea, this one smelling stronger than both the previous drinks. When she presented it to Harry, he looked up in confusion at her.

"It's a slight narcotic. It should help you relax and calm down. You don't have to drink it if you don't want to, you just look like you could use it."

Harry considered, then took it as the first gesture of comfort he'd received from anyone aside from sympathetic words. He sipped the tea slowly.

"What's the painting of?" He asked Cho. "Ancestors of mine." She replied, getting up and walking over to the scroll. "My family were rich for their small town, and the pagoda belongs to my grandfather." Then she pointed to a few four-legged creatures looking down dramatically from the tops of the surrounding mountains. They were scaled, and resembled hoofed eastern dragons, though with a singular horn rather than two on their foreheads.  
"These are the Ki-Lin, one of the most revered creatures in China. To see them at all is a sign of great fortune, but we were nestled in the mountains where they bred. These," she said, pointing down to the base of the pagoda, where a wizard in shining blue robes was strolling comfortably next to a very pretty woman in pale pink silks, "are my great, great great grandparents. There is a wand passed down through the Chang family, my grandfather has it now, which is supposed to have a Ki-Lin tail hair for it's core."

Harry nodded his interest, but found his eyes drooping suddenly. His vision blurred, then went out altogether.

When he woke it was evening outside. Harry looked about him and saw to his embarrassment that he was in Cho's bed. Panicked, he thought a brief 'Oh what have I done? Ginny I swear I didn't do anything!' before he realised that Cho was not in the bed with him. He shuffled out to the living room to see Cho reading a book in front of the fireplace. When she noticed him, she smiled bashfully. "I'm so sorry Harry, I didn't think the tea would have such a strong effect on you. I must have overdosed it." Harry's brow furrowed, remembering. "It's alright, I don't think it was your fault." Cho nodded.  
"Mmm. How long is it since you've slept?" She asked. "You were probably already on your last reserves for that tea to do what it did to you"  
"Too long." He murmured in agreement. Still a little sleepy, he came and sat next to Cho on the couch, whereupon he realised that the book she was looking at was in fact a collection of newspaper clippings and photographs. There were articles from the end of the war, but Cho, upon seeing Harry's interest, turned the pages back, til she reached their Hogwarts years. There were snapshots of the DA, taken by Colin Creevey and distributed around the group. Harry could seeing Neville's face shining with pride in one of them, the baby fat still rounding his face. Turning back further, Harry caught sight of the newspaper issues about the Tri-Wizard Tournament. A photo of a seventeen year old Fleur made Harry smile wryly, thinking about how much she'd grown up since then. The smile fell away as he saw the next photo - Cedric standing with his father in front of Hogwarts. Part of Harry wanted to run right then, rather than have to face Cho with the memory of Cedric, but he firmly made himself relax back into place. Then, as though an internal organ dropped about a foot lower in his body, something left his resistance.

"Cedric looked like that too you know." He said solemnly. Cho looked up in surprise, and Harry felt he couldn't bear to meet her eyes. "Like he'd just fallen asleep. He wasn't close to me, he wasn't even my friend really, but he was the first..." He choked a little, and decided it was best to leave that sentence unfinished. "I never forgot. All the time we had together after he died, I resented that you wanted to talk about him. I didn't understand you at all, and I didn't try to, even though what you went through was obviously perfectly natural. I owe you an apology for that.

I came here because the opposite happened, and you saw someone I cared about die. That put it into perspective for me, and I know now why you needed to hear what happened if you were ever going to move on. I'm just sorry I never told you."

Cho nodded gravely, feeling something more than just as though having settled a score. After all these years, she felt a mutual understanding between herself and Harry.

"I forgive you Harry. I forgave you a long time ago. The same goes for me I think. I never knew what it was like before really. Even the Battle of Hogwarts wasn't as gruesome..." She trailed off. "But at least, I can understand a little better what you were going through that year." There was silence for a few moments, then Harry rose to leave.

"Oh! By the way," Cho said suddenly. "this dropped out of your coat pocket when you fell." She picked up a small blue box from the coffee table beside her.

All of a sudden Harry's insides squirmed unpleasantly. He took the box back, then opened it to check the contents. Snapping it shut again, he glanced over at Cho. They both just looked awkward, and Cho somewhat embarrassed.

"Well..."

"Yeah."

"Thanks...you know, for everything." Harry gestured around the room.

"Oh, you're welcome."

"I'll, see you around?"

"Yeah. Goodbye Harry."

And he was gone, the glittering diamond ring secure and heavy in his pocket.


End file.
